


To Help me Find my Teleporter

by Jen_A



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Frerard, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen_A/pseuds/Jen_A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard receives an unexpected visit. Set in the current time. Gerard is on tour with his band, Frank's supposed to be on tour with his band, they haven't talked in two years.</p><p>“What are you doing here?”</p><p>He walks in, I didn’t invite him over but it’s just natural in him. He walks in, closes the door behind him and looks around, and then he sits on the border of my messy bed and leaves his hands over the sheets, awkwardly trying to smooth them.</p><p>“Why are you here?” I ask again, but he just stares at me, intensely. “You can’t just come here.” he says nothing, I wait, but nothing, I get nothing, I’m starting to feel upset, I even go to the door to open it and try, but I give him another chance. “Tell me why you are here, you haven’t talked to me in, what? Two years? Just tell me.”</p><p>Please leave comments :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Help me Find my Teleporter

_To help me find my teleporter_

Waking up in Colorado, looking at the red mountains through the bus window while the sun starts to rise up, blinding me. Who am I kidding? I didn’t wake up, I never went to sleep. This bus is too quiet, too clean, it doesn’t seem mine or ours; it doesn't have a smell or a constant noise flying around faster than wind that comes out from the heat vents. It’s just a simple tour bus that we rented and yes it’s fancy, I have an enormous bunk bed that I never thought could fit in a bus. I even have a small recording studio for when I feel inspired, but other than that it’s nothing and while I couldn’t sleep, I wondered why it felt so empty, when it had four more people inside.

The hotel is nice too. Why do I need a hotel in the first place? Apparently I sent an email saying that I needed a hotel to be more confortable, separated room from everybody else, more comfortable than the queen bunk that I had in the bus. Truth is, I’m the biggest liar. Excuses they may think, but nobody says anything to me. It’s getting boring, everything I say it gets done, everything I do people agrees with me, everything I want I have it right ahead. Everything is perfect and that pisses me off. I don’t need this hotel room, I don’t. It’s too big, I’m too small for it. The bed isn’t confortable, I can’t sleep, I can’t dream, I can’t even have nightmares on it. So I just roll around in bed during the morning so that after I can tell everybody that I had a great nap and that I’m ready for the sound check and then the show. But I’m not, I’m not ready, I never am. I’m also not fine. Am I happy? Yes, the happiest, but being happy doesn’t mean that you are full, I’m happy however so empty, like the bus, like heaven right now, there’s no a single cloud there, not even one. Heaven is there but it’s empty. I miss my cloud, because clouds form storms and when everything is so calm it’s just boring. I’m bored.

I leave the room around noon; I take a big cup of coffee and rub my eyes to pretend that I’m still sleepy just to avoid people wanting to talk to me. I sit with the band and the crew, some of them I can’t remember their names. Well, I can, I just don't want to. I don’t listen to what they are saying, but once in a while when they laugh at the same time, I laugh too, just to be there, but I see James looking at me from across the table, he knows me. He knows.

“Is it one of those days?” he asks later, I nod.

“When isn’t it one of those days?”

“Gee, man. Don’t, just don’t.” he touches my shoulder and gives me a squeeze.

I often think that he is smarter than what he thinks or shows.  He leaves me alone, he’s the only person that understands that I have to be alone sometimes. But he has been looking at me lately with different eyes, he’s not worried, he’s not in love with me either, he’s just waiting, until I fall, and for the way he has been acting lately, I’m pretty sure that he knows it will be soon. But I’m okay. I’m happy. I know that.

The show is amazing that night. I feel happy on stage. People are happy, the band is happy, I’m happy. I forget one part of a song, though, because I think I recognize someone in the audience and I freeze, my heart stops for a second and I stop singing. I turn around and pretend that I’m dancing and when I put my eyes in that same place I see that this person is not there anymore. It’s not the first time it happens. The show must go on. I keep singing, dancing, engaging, everything that I know best. But my heart never goes back to normal, it stays in a weird stage like when a balloon doesn’t have enough air and you may think it will go flat eventually, or it may fly, who knows? With a hand over my chest I retire from stage. Everybody is clapping and smiling. I do the same, mostly because I always do it, not because I want to. When I turn over my shoulder, James is behind me, looking at me, then he looks at his phone and he comes and puts an arm around my shoulders.

“Lets get you something to eat.” he says, I can’t agree more.

We end up at this remote diner far from Denver, it’s almost empty and I order pancakes and eggs, no coffee, but a hot cocoa.

“It reminds me of her, she must be drinking hot cocoa now.”

“Or in bed. Isn’t she like six?”

“Oh yeah. Bed. I forgot the time, I also forgot to call her.”

I look at my pancakes, a little disappointed of myself. I’ve been selfish again.

“It’s okay, she’s six, she was probably watching The Tonight Show, doing her homework or I don’t know, trying to conquer the world”

“You know nothing about kids.” I laugh. “But yeah, mostly the last one. She’s awesome. I’m too lucky. I’m so happy.”

“Yeah, you are a lucky man. Just stop saying out loud that you are happy, it’s getting on my nerves and on yours too, isn’t it?”

I just stare at him. He knows. I’m too obvious. Not that I’m not happy, but that I’m trying too hard to convince myself that I am indeed. I just chew my food in silence.

“So, I have a surprise for you.” He say’s after a while. “I got you an interview that you are going to love. Like seriously, it’s for this Japanese magazine, like super pop art and you know, all that crazy shit, and this guy is my friend that I owe him a lot and he was like, oh man I want to interview Mr. Way, and I said, yeah why not? Way is awesome, he won’t say no. He won’t, right?”

I just laughed.

“Japanese, huh? Sounds fun.”

I thank him, just getting me out of there, of the opulent Marriot and their over-pleasant staff, the crew and the band. Just that, he knows me.

When we go back I sleep like one of those princesses in my daughter’s fairy tales. Deep, calm and almost happy. We have the day off and everybody is planning to go around Denver, visit some friends, some of the state parks, they all seem to be having fun and I like that.

I wake up around four, it’s dark and lonely outside, I just stand in front of the window with a really bad cup of coffee that I made in my room. I answer tons of emails after and even write for a little bit. It’s past noon when Dewees texts me asking if I’m in my room. I reply: **Yes. What time is your friend coming over?** It takes him a while to answer, but he finally does: **Interview around four, but stay in your room, I’ll bring something over.**

I have a feeling about this interview, I’m not sure what it is, but it feels like I’m that balloon again; ready to fall short of air.

I work some more, I even order lunch to my room and keep working. My daughter is at school but I set an alarm to call her when I know she’ll be at home. Just after doing that, there’s a knock on my door. I walk with my phone still in my hand, _it must be Dewees,_ I think and then I open the door wide. My heart explodes after loosing all the air I had. I can’t breath, I don’t remember how to or when I should, I don’t even remember that I need it. When it hits me, that feeling of needing air desperately, I start breathing small amounts of air, filling my lungs, but I can’t do it correctly, I forgot how to breath, and when I’m finally able to, I feel like I just came out of my mothers womb. Incredibly lost.

“What are you doing here?”

He walks in, I didn’t invite him over but it’s just natural in him. He walks in, closes the door behind him and looks around, and then he sits on the border of my messy bed and leaves his hands over the sheets, awkwardly trying to smooth them.

“Why are you here?” I ask again, but he just stares at me, intensely. “You can’t just come here.” he says nothing, I wait, but nothing, I get nothing, I’m starting to feel upset, I even go to the door to open it and try, but I give him another chance. “Tell me why you are here, you haven’t talked to me in, what? Two years? Just tell me.”

But he says nothing, his eyes keep staring at me, I know. I’m not looking at him; I’m looking at my hand on the doorknob. I can feel his eyes on my back; I can feel his presence, and that is much more intimidating.

“Frank. You can’t just appear after ignoring me for so long.”

I give up, I lean on the door and look at my socks, my toes are twisting, I’m nervous.

“I don’t wanna talk.”

He finally says something.

“Ah no? Then what _ya_ wanna do?”

“You look younger.”

“What?”

“That you haven’t aged, I was expecting you to look older.”

“Wow, for how long did you plan to ignore me?”

“Like forty or fifty years, something like that.”

He laughs and my heart jumps. No. No. He can’t be doing this to me. Not again. No. Just no.

“Well. Why are you here? Dewees is coming soon...” I shout myself because I just realize “Oh... oh...

James. Anyways, I have an interview at four, so whatever you want, say it fast”

I look at him, he is still staring at me intensely, and he has _that_ smirk on his face, _his_ smirk. He just lifts up one of his eyebrows and I understand everything.

“You don’t look Japanese”

“That one was on me” he laughs, I can’t help but laugh too. “You can’t say no to Japanese stuff.”

Then I stop myself and clear my throat.

“Frank...”

“Can you just stay quiet? Let’s not talk, okay?”

“No. If you don’t tell me why you’re here, I’m going to leave”

“I just wanted to see you, like really see you, no talking, no thinking, no arguing. I just want to see you. Look at you... wow, where’s the grey hair?”

I shift between my feet very uncomfortably; I don’t know how to stand or how to move, I’m zoned out, and the worst part is that he knows.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on tour?”

“Yeah, we have a couple of days off, so here I am.”

“Where were you?”

“What? I don't wanna talk, really.”

“I just need to know.”

“I was in North Carolina.”

“And you flew here.”

“I did.”

“To stare at me.”

“You got it! See? It ain’t that hard.”

I try to take a deep breath. I don’t like this at all.

“I just don’t want to think. I was talking with James and the next moment I was at the airport getting a last minute flight deal. Did you know you can get them like really cheap?” I roll my eyes “Anyways... long flight, I’m kinda tired and this is a nice bed, I could totally take a nap.” he squeezes the sheets in his hands and that’s when I notice that he’s nervous too.

He does this thing with his fingers; he curls them and rubs them with each other when he’s nervous, he also bites his nails, and he does, right in front of me and then he looks at me because he knows that I know, and he laughs. He’s right, we don’t need to talk, we never need to talk.

“Can you come sit next to me?”

I don’t think, I just walk. Once I’m next to him I stare at the wall in front of me. I feel intimidated, nervous, stupid, clumsy, idiotic, everything that is messed up I feel. That’s how he makes me feel. Then I feel his heavy, warm hand on top of mine. His hands are thick, rough, they have so much power over me, over anything that he touches, I feel that my breaths are sinking the second I feel his skin on top of mine. It’s been too long. Then I feel his eyes over me and I fail and look at him. Yes, I fail, I fail to myself. I had promised to me that this would never happen. When I look at him he does that thing, where he smiles slightly, then he open his eyes and takes a deep breath, he looks down, at our hands, our fingers tangled and tender, he smiles wider, I’m about to freak out, I’m about to jump away from him and kick him out. He’s the Devil himself, or God himself, I can’t ever know, but he’s not from this world.

He finally gets closer, I can feel him breathing over my skin, over my lips and when he closes the distance he just puts himself there, his lips over mine, still, not moving, just there, barely moving, just making contact. I feel his eyelashes over my cheekbones, his eyes are closing and he’s still there, afraid, as much as I am.

This isn’t working. There are too many feelings involved. I don’t want to kiss him, I want to punch him. Yeah. I want to push him against the wall and punch him in the face. That’s what I want.

Both of us take distance. Extremely sad and disappointed. We couldn’t kiss. I felt it, yeah, the butterflies and all that shit, my heart is about to explode yeah, but we are old for that stuff, I mean, us. “Us” is an old term.

Frank leaves my hand and rubs his face, he’s getting angry, I can see it. He’s frustrated, I don’t want to say anything, I just let him find himself in the moment.

“You should do that thing that you always do.” he says, I understand.

We don’t say anything, we just move, I sit up on the bed, my back against the header, then I pull him towards me, he leans on my lap, puts his head over my stretched legs and I put my arm over his chest, awkwardly touching him, my other hand goes to his hair, it’s soft, I leave my fingers there for a while, just going around every strand of hair, I also touch behind his ears and then again I slide my fingers through his hair. He looks at me the entire time. We used to do this a lot, when he was anxious, he would lean on me and I knew it, so I would touch his hair, tenderly, just with my fingertips. He once said to me that he likes that because since I used my hands to make art, that I was making art with him. He never knew, however, that he was already art, I was just trying to reach out to it, trying to understand it, always jealous because he was art and greedy because I was perhaps the only one that could see that.

“Your hair is soft.” I say, it just comes out of me naturally.

“Yours looks greasy.”

“I haven’t showered in... wait...”

“You don’t even remember.” he laughs, then he gets serious, he changes his expression “James said he heard you saying that you were happy, _out loud_.”

“Oh.” I stay quiet for a while. “Is that why you are here?”

“I don’t know” he avoids my eyes, I rest my hand on his cheek.

“It’s okay. I don’t need to be saved.”

“I know, don’t talk, don’t remind me. When you talk you ruin everything, so just don’t, please.”

I don’t say anything, we just stay there and suddenly I feel tired, I woke up early. I close my eyes, my fingers tangled in his hair, I just let myself go, I haven’t feel like this in a while, wanting to sleep just because it’s nice, not because I have to. Some things, no matter how natural they can be, can feel as forced as you let them. I used to have a lot of nightmares about Frank, I used to avoid sleeping because of that but then I stopped having them and I started to miss them, just because that was the only place where I could still see him. I still can’t believe he came back. He came back to me.

When I wake up I don’t open my eyes. I’m there, on the bed and lying down, not sitting. There’s a blanket over me, I can feel it over my shoulders. Frank does that, even knowing that I don’t like it. I hear him talking; he may be on the phone because I don’t hear anyone else.

“Yeah... I’m fine... Yes, I can stay... It’s okay Jimmini... I told you it’s okay... I know... it was my idea and I’m sorry I was pissed, happy?” then he laughs and I move. “He’s awake, I’ll see you later, come say hi.”

“What was your idea?” I ask, my mouth is dry and it’s almost dark. I look at the clock and I see is past four, I curse. “Fuck.”

“You should shower.”

“Wait, did you clean?”

“Sort of, it was kinda messy here. Plus, I got what I wanted, I got to see you for more than two hours, not a word, and to cuddle you, kind of nice too, and then I was bored so I cleaned. I also sent some of your clothes to get washed.”

“You always do that, you didn’t have to.”

“Well, someone had to and something tells me you haven’t done laundry since tour started.”

“Not true. I did laundry.”

“Well, the smell on your clothes didn’t say that to me.”

“That’s because some of that was new.”

“Is that how new clothes smell? Oh man, I had _no_ idea.”

“Don’t be sarcastic.”

“Okay, I’m gonna be fair and admit that you have improved. But you aren’t quite there yet.”

“That’s because I don’t want to.”

“Remember that you have a daughter that will be a teenager in some years and won’t want a smelly dad that is also overly enthusiastic about cartoons.”

“I’m not smelly and please, do not even take me there.”

We laugh for a while; then he sits in front of me, on a chair. He stretches his legs over the bed, his feet over my tights; one of his socks has a hole on it.

“At least I buy new clothes.”

“Shut up. Nobody buys clothes for me anymore and you know I hate shopping. Plus, this is how I disguise, so I don’t call unwanted attention.”

“You are _you._ Attention is dragged onto you naturally. Failed on that one.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“You look good.”

“Thanks.”

“Wow. That’s new.”

“Being a front man has given me this whole new overconfidence I didn’t know existed.”

“You still close your eyes a lot, though, when you are there.”

“How do you know?” he stares at me in shock. “Did Mikey tell you?”

“No. I saw it myself.”

“When?”

“Seattle, in March.”

“I fucking knew it. You fucking fucker.”

He looks upset, for real, and nervous.

“You were incredibly amazing.” Then I blush, inevitably, just because of this memory.

“What? Why are you blushing? Talk now or I will tickle you until to say something.”

“You looked really hot up there. It really turned me on.”

I was being honest, totally honest, abruptly honest and I felt so much better after I said that, so, so much. I don’t get to talk about this with anyone and saving it for myself makes me feel dizzy and emotional, saying it out loud is relieving.

“Oh really? Did you jerk off after?”

“What?” I laugh, his foot is going up my leg, close to my crotch and when did we move to this? I’m confused.

“Did you? Go back to wherever you were and jerked off?”

“I don’t do that anymore, jerking off.”

“Oh come on. It’s _me_ you idiot, I fucking know you. Or at least I want to think I still do.”

“I did. But not that day. I was trying not to, I wanted to for a while but I was refusing to, a couple of weeks later I gave up and I did it.”

“Oh my fucking God, I gave you blue balls? You... ha, you are so... I can’t believe you refused to get off just because I was the motivation.”

“It wasn’t because of that.”

“Yes it was. So tell me, was it good? What were you thinking?”

“There isn’t a lot of science in getting your hand in your pants, ya’ know?”

“Yeah, specially yours.” I look at him and he laughs, I know he’s joking, he knows it too, but his foot is rubbing my leg, getting closer to my crotch and I’m starting to feel it, there’s a current of sparkles and tremors running trough my body. “So,” he coughs “What were you thinking? When you touched yourself, I mean.”

“This ain’t normal.”

“ _We_ ain’t normal, now talk you jerk.”

“Well...” I finally stop his foot with my hand, he looks at me curious, “I was thinking that you were playing for me, just for me, no band, no audience.”

“Selfish.”

“Yeah... you are that kind of thing that you can’t share.”

“Ok, keep talking.”

He hates when I talk about sharing... he hates that.

“But you didn’t close your eyes, you stared at me, like you are doing it now.”

“Like _I wanna eat you alive_ kind of look?”

“Exactly.”

We both breathe hard, I know the temperature is going up and nobody has manipulated the heat of the room.

“And then you just played, with your guitar, the emerald one, and you looked at me the entire time, teasing me, licking your lips and moving around, like dancing, then the music got heavier and you started to jump and went crazy and...”

“That’s kind of hard when you have to sing.”

“I know. But you weren’t singing anymore, just playing and just for me. Sweating, a lot, your skin looked so good, your clothes sticking to your body, you looked like honey, shinny and sweet...”

“You’re hard.” he looks at my pants. Yes, I know I’m hard, just the memory of that imaginary moment gave me this. Then he laughs “Shinny and sweet? What kind of shit are you reading lately?”

“Winnie the Pooh?” I smile “Just shut up, come here, come.”

He stands and he doubts, I’m still partly covered with those sheets, he leaves them there and carefully lays on top of me. He’s heavier. He adjusts himself and I just hug him. He’s hard too, I know that. Frank, let’s say, he’s not subtle when it comes to these things, but he doesn’t move much. We just lay there for a while, just hugging. Then I put my hands around his face. I need him. I bring him closer and we finally kiss, no doubting, we just kiss and it’s so natural, so good. I take it slowly because I don’t want to rush things. The last time I tried to rush this we fought. He engages in the kiss easily, less scared than he was before, he puts a hand over my chest and the other one around my ribs, I just keep holding his face, scared that he may leave me. We kiss like when we were teenagers, or more like when he was a scared teenager and I was drunk. But I’m not drunk, he’s not a kid either, he became this hot mess of a man, hot every inch. When he moans over my mouth I put him away, I don’t want us to carry on, I want to be patient, I’m not even sure if I’m ready for this, I mean, I want to, so much, I want to have sex with him. But I don’t like what happens after and I know he doesn't want to talk, but we are going to have to talk.

“What happened to your tooth?” he asks, I look at him surprised.

“I broke it... how do...”

“I know that mouth almost like I know mine.”

“It was stupid, I was trying to open a bottle of ketchup.”

“And you are still scared of the dentist...” he smiles, he’s so close to my face, I’m going to faint.

“Yeah, they will try to fix it and fixing teeth requires anesthesia.”

“Oh, I really, really, really wanted you to blow me... but... what if you accidentally hurt me with that broken tooth.”

“You know I don’t use teeth.”

“Oh, but I like it when you do.”

My dick jumps in my pants and it’s so obvious that Frank laughs.

“Jerk.”

“Take that shower.”

“Why?”

“So I can fuck your brains out.”

“Okay... okay.”

I stand up and we are in a very bad shape, messy hair, bulgy pants, slippery lips... he looks incredibly hot and he’s smiling, like a devilish thing with bad thoughts in his mind. I know, I know what’s about to happen when he asks me to shower.

“Shower with me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t resist it... and trust me, I want this to be good, really good.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay...”

I enter the shower a little scared. It has happened before, that we can’t do anything. I know all of that we were talking was part of a foreplay that he likes to follow, he likes putting things in his mind, planning them, but then if something doesn’t feel right he backs off, it happened before. When I’m taking off my clothes I hear the door, it’s James. Frank opens and I listen to them talking, then James screams.

“Hi, Gee! Hope you like my Japanese friend.”

“I had forgotten how short Japanese people are.”

“Shut up! Shower!” that was Frank and I just follow.

Weirdly, my erection takes a while to go away, I’m not that young anymore, sometimes it just never happens, but Frank gave me one just by talking. When I finish, there’s a lot of steam in the bathroom, I just wrap a towel around my hips and barely dry my hair, it’s dripping all over the place. I smell pizza outside and when I open the door, I see Frank on the bed, there’s a box of pizza in the middle and he’s eating while checking his phone.

“That was a long fair shower.” He says, then he puts the phone on the nightstand and looks at me. “You didn’t dry your hair.”

“No. That’s boring.”

“You are going to get the bed wet.”

“I thought _we_ were going to get the bed wet.” I laugh and Frank makes fun of me.

“That’s such a bad joke.”

“Really? Why do I have to laugh of everything you say?”

“Because _I am_ funny _,_ you aren’t.”

“Whatever. You can dry my hair while I eat. Did you order this?”

“No. James brought it.”

I walk to sit in front of him and I give him a towel. He complains but he does dry my hair slowly, while I eat a slide of the pizza.

“Why is he doing this?”

“Because he want us to be as fat as he is.”

“I’m talking about this, you... not the pizza... but yeah...”

I just smile. He’s funny, he makes me laugh. It’s just so easy for him.

“I asked him.”

“What?”

“To call me when you needed me.”

“Frank... I... you didn’t...”

“I told you not to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Then the alarm of my phone goes off. He looks at me and gives me my phone. I set up the alarm to call my daughter, and when he looks at the screen he backs off and stops what he was doing with the towel. I stop the alarm and I don’t talk about it. I don’t want to ruin things but I do want to call her.

“I’m going to.”

“Yeah...”

I dial and when I do, Frank feeds me more pizza and then takes the box from the bed to the desk, where he stares at my notebook and some of my drawings. It doesn’t take me long, she tells me about school and homework and about this kid that is her new friend. She’s friends with a boy... they play ninja turtles and oh man, she’s just six and already hanging with boys, that’s going to be the death of me. Frank laughs at everything I say to her and then he comes back, takes the towel off my head and goes to the bathroom. I end the call before he comes out, I’m still on the bed, getting cold.

“How is she?” I know he calls her, she tells me, he never asks for me though.

“She’s awesome, I’m so blown away, ya’ know?” he smiles. “How are yours? James showed me pictures, they are so big, it’s like...”

“Yeah, almost my size now... They are all good, perfect, too good to be truth.”

Then he takes a deep breath and stays over the bathroom door. I feel like I just ruined it. We talked. He looks dizzy, not like before. He’s confused.

“Gee, I can’t.” he says. I look down, breathing hard as well, he looks sad but I knew that was about to happen.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

“I know. I really want to, I just can’t. I can’t, please tell me I can’t.”

“No.”

“Just...”

“You can, Frank. We can. You know that. Maybe if we talk, you know, after we... you can feel better.”

“No. Talking messes me up. I get all emotional and it doesn’t work.”

“What’s the big deal?”

“Don’t, just don’t ask that.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I stand up and I go where he is. I take him into my arms carefully, I hug him and he hugs me back.

“You know like when you want something really bad, but then you are scared of getting it, I don’t know, because you have been waiting for so long, with such a deep desire that... you feel like it won’t be as special as you thought it could be?”

“Yeah. I remember when me and Mikey were kids, this one spring we got sick, like really, really sick. We were dying to get ice cream and my mom promised us to take us if we were good and took all our medicine and ate all the soup. So we did, and we waited, for weeks and when we finally went to get ice cream, it was crappy ice cream. Because the place we liked was closed that day and mom took us somewhere new and it was so bad, terrible ice cream, but fuck I was so happy and I enjoyed every bit of it.”

“I’m talking about sex and you talk about ice cream? There’s something seriously wrong with you.” he laughs, on my chest, I keep hugging him, almost cuddling him.

“We don’t have to have sex. Anyways, it’s better that way, I didn’t have time to shave.”

“Shut up.”

I feel his hands on my lower back, he tries to reach my butt, hesitating, he finally does and he looses the towel around my hips until it falls on our feet. I’m exposed, completely naked and he’s wearing a lot of clothes. Then he finally takes distance and he looks at me, almost violating me with his eyes. I never feel unconfident around Frank; he made sure that I would never feel that way around him. He puts two fingers on my lips after, and his eyes are on me the entire time. He moves his fingers slowly, going down and touching my chin, my throat, my chest, my navel, and my dick. Just slowly, I can’t believe he’s going this slowly. He stops on my balls; I can never understand the fetish he has with those. His other hand holds me close to him and he keeps touching, slightly, just with enough pressure to make me breath hard. He finally goes back to my dick, massaging just enough, not desperate, I start to get hard and my head falls back.

“Go to the bed, sit on the edge.”

I do what he says, I’m okay with this, more than okay, I’m just scared that he may back off, because we would fight again and it’s not fair. So I sit on the edge of the bed like he instructed and I look at him.

“I’m about to give you a show.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Fun? More like _sounds hot._ ”

“Yeah... that... just...”

“Be patient.”

“Reversed roles?”

“Apparently.”

He starts with the socks, then the cardigan and after a flannel. That goes fast, too fast for what he promised. But then he has a sweater underneath. Yeah, he always puts a lot of clothes on. When he goes up and takes the sweater off, I sigh deeply, he smiles at me. I want to help him.

“We should put on some sexy music, so you can dance.” I say, I’m being stupid, just to calm him down and not let him think.

“Yeah? Like what? _Tainted love_?”

“More like _Closer._ ”

“Nice...”

“ _You shock me all night long_ ”

“ _Dismantle me_ ”

“Yeah...”

“ _Things that make no sense_ ”

“ _Favorite thing_ ”

“Oh yes... that one...”

He smiles and then he has a shirt on, his arms are exposed and I can count some new tattoos. It makes me feel horrible, knowing that his skin changed and that I wasn’t a part of it. However, I don’t say anything. I don’t want to ruin things.

He finally unzips his pants and he takes a deep breath.

“Why are you nervous?” I ask.

“I’m not sure. It’s just that it’s you and... I’m not, you know... I’m not a vampire like some people.”

“No, you are another thing, definitely not from this world.”

“Really?” he takes his shirt off and my breath away, I’m that cheesy. I just stare at him, yes, he has changed, but I love everything I see. “What world am I from, then?”

“Not sure. Heaven? Hell? I’m pretty sure it’s Hell.”

“Nice... very nice Gerard, what a good way to take me to bed.”

“You know it. You know that you are a devilish thing. The way I want you, the way I think of you, is not normal... just take them off” I talk about his pants.

“Yes, sir.”

He goes slow and I can see that he’s thinking about it, he knows that after this there’s no going back and I see much more tattoos on the way. New tattoos, there’s one specially, in his inner tight that calls my attention. He’s too sensitive there, I don’t know how he did that one, it looks beautiful though, they all look great on him.          

“I hope you didn’t tattoo your butt, you promised...”

“You are upset.”

He looks at me, getting out of his pants. He knows, it pisses me off not being a part of that process, his skin is a canvas, and he never let me design a tattoo for him. He used to say that if I ever did that and he got it tattooed, that whenever we fight he would feel the need to rip off his skin. Now that I think about it, after all the stupid and also the good fights, it’s better that I didn’t. There are some though, that are about me, but that's a different story he says, because it’s a part of his life and it was his choice, he is proud of his choices, therefore it doesn’t matter if it’s about me and I liked when he explained that to me, because it meant that even if he ever gets to hate me, he will always be proud of having me in his life, having me as one of the choices he made.

“I’ll give you a detailed tour after we fuck. It can be like that thing we do after.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever you want.”

“You are so needy... is your mouth watering?”

He smiles at me, playing with his underwear, he’s still nervous so I stretch a hand and drag him to bed, on top of me. There’s a part of me that wants to finish this fast, but the other part wants to enjoy it slowly. I take his underwear in my hands and start pulling it off. There’s a new tattoo, over his hip, I just leave a kiss there. His skin is sour, just how I like it. I keep kissing some of the skin that I can reach, then I bury my nose in his stomach, biting a little flesh, just enough and he’s hard, really hard and I’m so happy. It’s awkward when I get his underwear off and we have to move and he almost falls, we just laugh and it’s perfect, everything going normal. We finally move over the bed, and I think it has never been like this, this slowly, this appreciative. With Frank most times it’s just fast, heated, hard, just crazy. He’s impulsive and when he wants something he gets it, so even when we were fighting and he wanted sex he would get it. I never said no, I really couldn’t. But then some other times he was so romantic, soft and tender. He would plan things and control everything that happened, and then, he’d say that we were making love. Two extremes, never something in the middle. Unless I was in control but that barely happened; after a while, he was always in control, he liked it and I just let him.

I finally turn him around, just to check. He has this small butt that is not really the hottest thing in the world, but for me it is. I lost all of my senses in that butt. I just squeeze it while I lean over his back, his ass in my hand.

“I seriously love this tiny thing.”

“Fuck you, it’s not tiny.”

“Yes... it is... so tiny that I can fit it in my mouth.”

“You have a big mouth.”

“Yeah...” I kiss his ear, I try to separate his legs but he doesn’t let me, instead he turns around, trying to be on top of me and he takes both of my hands and spreads my arms on the sides. “What?...”

“Just leave them there.”

I feel really exposed.

“Fuck, you are so fucking hot.”

I say to him, he’s sitting over my hips, he has these muscles that I never saw before, specially his arms, it must be after lifting babies, that happens. He is behaving lost, he doesn’t even know where to start so he stays there looking at me. He touches himself. He’s incredibly hard, about to explode, I touch him too, and he’s hot, really hot.

“Turn around.”

I do what he says and lay on my stomach. He’s not subtle, not at all. He separates my legs and makes me bend one knee, on the side, then he leaves his fingers between my ass and I can feel him breathing close, so close that I start burning.

“I wanna play a game.” he says.

“Anything.”

“I’m going down on you and you count, count to mmm... a hundred, if you miss a number or stop or fumble, then I stop. If you do it right, I won’t stop and I’ll be faster and better.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

My skin is burning, he’s already there, blowing slowly and killing me.

“One... two...” I start and I feel him.

I really don’t know how he learnt to move his tongue like that, I don’t want to know for sure. But the first time that we tried this, he was drunk, I wasn’t, I was recovering and he said he wanted to do it. I was okay with him wanting to, but so fucking scared of him hating it. I remember his tongue was so hot and fast that he made me come just with that. It was also his first, but he was good, extremely good and it’s because he concentrates, he likes to be perfect and messy at the same time.

“Eight...teen... ninetreefuck...”

“Twenty” he whispers slowly, then bites my cheek and I grab the sheets in my fist, trying to hold on to them.

“Twenty one...” I say, I can feel him smile.

I don’t last until more than forty, I can’t talk anymore, he has driven me insane. I beg him to come to me, to kiss me, and my heart is beating so fast that when he comes and leans on my back, I can hear us pounding, strong, we feel so alive.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, anything, just do anything.”

Then he fucks me, because it’s like this now. He’s always holding my hand though, moving inside me tenderly and slow. It’s been a while for me, but I can always adjust to him, he’s just perfect, made to be inside of me in every possible way. He moves with a rhythm that I feel almost like if he was playing a song. At some point, I ask to see his face, so he turns around, leaving me on top and he touches my dick.

“Frank, no... please... It’ll kill me.”

“I know, I don’t care...”

He knows I can’t control myself, then I go crazy. He’s inside of me and our movements are uncoordinated, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, messy, out of rhythm, I can’t control my breathing and his hand on me, pumping and squeezing is not helping. I fall short of breath, almost falling on top of him.

“Are you tired?”

“A little. I never work out.”

“Don’t you have sex?”

“Not like this...”

“Good, I like to break you apart, if you could see yourself, you look so damn hot, you can’t even open your eyes.”

“That’s... because... too much...”

I stop, he’s inside of me and I stop. I’m full, all of him inside of me. I just stay there and breathe.

“I love you, Frank...”

“I know.”

I’m gone, I’m hiding in his neck, I can’t think and he moves taking control again. Then he squeezes me in his fingers and one minute he’s inside of me, the next second he’s not and the next one I am in his mouth, all of me. It’s too much, I’m out of control, twisting like a maniac and he just sucks and sucks like he knows best, then he’s over the head, while stroking me with his hand, he wants me to come and he’s being rough, so much, but I need it and I just let myself go.

“Yes, yes, yes...” he’s on my ear now, saying things that I can’t hear because he’s inside of me again, fast and hard and rough and just being Frank. “So good... you are so good and so hot, amazing” then I feel him from my insides, he falls on top of me stopping his movements and he shakes and screams, and bites my earlobe. He’s quivering and he stays there. I feel so full but he stays there. I’m over sensitive but he doesn’t care. I can barely breath and I can feel his heart on top of mine. This is wonderful, so much. “I love this, I love you... I really do.”

“I know.”

“How long until you can get it up again.”

“Fuck, no idea... but I will, I promise.”

“Good. You tasted good, exquisite.”

“You talk as if I was dessert.”

“You were, I love having you after pizza, best dessert ever.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious, you came like a lot... I swallowed the whole thing.”

“Always so gross.”

“Always so delicious. Get up, don’t fall asleep, make me coffee.”

“Okay.”

I move, but before leaving I kiss him. His mouth is red and sour now, he’s sweating so much, it looks perfect on him. My ass hurts when I move, I still get up, go to the bathroom and clean, then when I go back to make some coffee, I find him falling asleep, he looks calm, so I lay down next to him, pull the covers on top of us and close my eyes. I want to sleep naked with him, we never got to do this a lot, so I just close my eyes and I feel him squeezing my hand, he’s okay with this and I am too.

I can’t sleep though, nor can he. I’m looking at his eyes and they are open, just staring at me. We have to talk, we do, but we don’t want to. It never ends well. We should just never talk, ever, but always do this and love each other in silence. But we can’t. It’s hard the way we are so impossible to be, to coexist. I miss him, so much, but I know he’s better without me, more focused on his things, his family. I can’t say I’m better without him, I’m not, but I’m different, just that. _Different is good_ , she says to me all the time, I can’t think about her right now. I do other things now rather than damage him. I wanted a lot of his attention, always and I could see how tired he was of that, but he never said no. I don’t know what happened, I can’t blame it on our families, it was really us, we knew that the best way of being together was to never be together. This is why talking is so hard, because it hurts like when fire burns you, like when you put a hand in a pile of snow and it just burns, leaving you numb while you die gradually. I didn’t want to die on him, not like that.

“We should go out.” He says, he’s touching my chest. “You are thinking and thinking is bad, so we should go out.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere, just go out with me, let’s have a date.”

“I saw a record store near here.”

“I’d love to, but I want us to be alone.”

 _Or he doesn’t want to be seen._ I think, but I don’t say anything.

“I’ll pay them to close the store just for us.”

“Can we go to the red rocks?”

He asks and I’m surprised, we had a huge fight there once.

“Yeah, okay.”

We dress up, in silence and before I can notice, he has one of my shirts on and one of my jackets, then he takes a pair of socks off my suitcase and puts them on, I smile. He does that, always, I don’t really understand why and he never talks about it. I asked him once, but he said to me that he didn’t want to answer and I never asked again. He’s that simple with some things, he never changes his mind about them also, once he has an idea about something, it’s almost impossible to change his mind.

We take a taxi outside the hotel, the drive is long and we barely talk. I know he’s thinking about that fight, I just know. He likes to rebuild memories, he has done that before. When a place brings him a bad memory he goes back there to change things, he told me once that it was his way to tell the world to fuck off, to show himself that he had more power over the things that happened in his life. I understand that. There are some places however, that we can’t ever go back to, some of them are too damaging, some others are hopeless.

When we get there, it’s dark and cold. There is an amphitheater with huge and bright lights on. Since it’s a week day there are some people around, we walk farther, to get away from everybody and he holds my hand at some point, then he lights a couple of cigarettes and hands me one.

“I quit.” I say, but I still take it.

“Me too.”

We smoke and it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels natural, like something we are used to doing together. We sit on a big stone and I help him climb because he’s too small to jump, we just laugh and when we sit, he puts his head over my shoulder and I breath over his head.

“You smell like sex.”

“Nice.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Let’s just not...” he sighs “... in the morning.”

“Let’s not sleep tonight then.”

“I’m more than okay with that.”

“The sky looks so freaking amazing from here.”

“Yeah... remember the first time we were here? Like years ago... on that tour when we were on a van and I was the new kid and you were so nerdy and awkward around me, and I was trying to impress you talking about comics but I knew shit?”

“Yes, I do remember.”

“And we came here, with your brother and he was taking pictures but then he almost had an asthma attack.”

We laugh, of course I remember.

“And we climbed here alone and it was dark, the sky was nice.”

“Yeah... that was the first time that I wanted to kiss you.”

I almost choke with my own saliva.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you telling me this now? I never knew about this before.”

“I don’t know. Some things need to be said in the right moment.”

“Why is it now the right moment?”

“I don’t have an answer for that.”

“I was really ugly back then, I had zits and...”

“You were talking about the stars and how in the city we never got to see the stars like this...”

“How can you remember that? I don’t remember...”

“Then you went all nerd and talked about constellations and you said that Scorpio was visible during that time of the year and you were trying to find it. And I was so pissed because I couldn’t see it, but you kept trying and we didn’t have smartphones back then or Google, so you were like searching on your mind and talking to yourself and it was hilarious. I was just looking at you, trying to find a fucking invisible constellation for me and I thought that if I ever were to kiss a dude, it would have to be you.” He smiles at me, I’m surprised. “I’m so proud of me, not only I got to kiss you but I also got to have sex with you, oh if I could go back to the past I would totally tell that young version of me: _Gerard is going to fuck you and you are going to love it_.”

“That’s what you would do if you had a chance to go back to the past?”

“Yeah, I would love to see my face. I bet I would totally freak out. I used to think that I would never have sex, I was always so desperate.”

“Normal kid.”

“You’re insulting me now.”

“I can’t believe that’s where you would go back in the past.”

“Why not?”

“What if... what if you tell that Frank that and he gets scared and quits the band.”

“That would never happen. I just told you, I decided that night that I wanted to kiss you. Since then I just really tried to find a way.”

“Only that you didn’t... I kissed you.”

“Because I let you.”

“No shit. Take all the credit.”

“It’s the truth. I took you there, I’m a pretty manipulative fucker.”

“Frank... don’t take that away from me, it’s perhaps the bravest thing I have ever done.”

“And it was, I’m serious, but I took you there. Just remember, I knew all your weaknesses by then, I showed up at your door completely soaked.”

“Because you lost your house keys.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, what? You lied to me?”

“Well, I didn’t... I lost them, yes, but I did it on propose. I knew that I couldn’t back off, so I just threw them on the lake and then walked to your place.”

“What? Okay, still makes no sense... showing up at my door soaked, whatever, that means nothing.”

“It means everything. I wore your clothes, I put myself there, I even made you coffee and...”

“No. I kissed you.”

“Yes, yes you did kiss me but I made it happen.”

“No...”

“Remember I started talking about piercing my mouth?”

“Yes.”

“See?”

“That means nothing, you jerk.”

“I made you think about it.”

“But _I_ kissed you, you didn’t. Of course I was thinking about it, you were also licking your lips a lot. You invited yourself to sleep over, took over my bed and my pillows. You jumped under my sheets but you did nothing other than provoke me, _I_ kissed you.”

“Because I made you kiss me.”

“Stop being stupid, Frank.”

“My point is that I had to practically do all of that for you to show me something. I was risking everything that night, I knew it, I was playing all in, I knew that if I fucked it up that was it, I would be done because I couldn’t stay around you like that, I was obsessed with you. You never gave me a hint of anything, I never knew if you liked me, I was there always, I practically became your shadow and you were so oblivious. When I threw my keys to the lake I knew that was it, I knew I would go to your house to kiss you. You kissed me yes, but because I put all my efforts so you could do something.”

“Wait... I did show you...”

“No, Gerard, me borrowing one of your comics wasn’t exactly showing.”

“But I never did that with anyone.”

“Because you had no one to do that with, other than your brother.”

“Point.”

“Come on, I pretended I liked comics so that you would like me.”

“But you did like them.”

“Yeah, but not when I met you.”

“So, you are saying that you incited me to kiss you.”

“Yes.”

“By invading my space.”

“You could say that, yes.”

“But I still did it. I was oblivious and I did it. The way you were, I thought you were like that with everyone. Also, you used to be extra touchy with everyone but me, you would hug everyone and kissed them on the cheek, but not me, never me, I kissed you even when I thought that you felt disgusted about me.”

“Then why?”

“I was also playing all in. I had you in my bed, this punk kid that shaved his head and painted his hair pink...”

“Oh yeah, that lasted like two days.”

“You were so funny, you always made me laugh, and I was there wondering why you were there, why out of all people that you knew you went to my place, and I thought _you are his band mate, that’s normal._ I grabbed you, when you were standing next to the bed and I grabbed you by your waist and kissed you. It wasn’t like oh yeah, he’s lying next to me and I’m gonna get closer smoothly, no. It wasn’t like you where closing your eyes and waiting for it. No, you were ignoring my eyes and I called you, twice, since you didn’t turn I though _fuck this_ and I did it.”

“Best decision ever.”

“Fuck, you just wanted me to talk about it, right?”

“Yeah...”

I elbow him over his ribs, I’m laughing thou. I feel so happy, extremely happy.

“You are right about something, you are a manipulative little jerk.”

“So where would you go? In our past, I mean.”

“I... I don’t know.”

“You can say it. But it can’t change things, so be careful with what you choose. You could go back just to take a quick look at something or tell something to your old self.”

I know, he was thinking that I wanted to change things because there was a time when I thought I could change them.

“You always put the rules.”

“I’m just the cleverest.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So?”

“I would go back to when I told you the first time.”

“That you loved me?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“You were so happy. I just wanna see that face again.”

“Time to change the subject.”

I was taking us in that direction, where talking gets uncomfortable and painful.

“I wanna see that face, Frank.”

“Why is it so fucking cold already?”

“Should we go back?”

“Remember when we were in Japan?”

“Yes, which time?”

“That time...”

Oh... he got sick the last time we were in Japan and I took care of him. We also had a bad fight. I don’t understand why he wants to remember that.

“I took a picture of you. It’s the most perfect picture in the world.”

“When?”

“When you were sleeping. That’s the picture I look at when I miss you.”

“I wanna see it.”

“No. It’s mine, only I can see it.”

“Then, why you tell me about it?”

“Because... I want you to know that I look at that picture, a picture that only I have seen.”

“Oh... was it after we fucked?”

“Yes. But it’s not that, it’s just... so perfect. I can see you in it, the real you, it takes me back everywhere, whenever I want it. It’s my teleporter. You should have a teleporter, do you have one?”

“I don’t, not like yours.”

“We have to come up with something.”

I kiss him. It’s natural, slow, nice and wonderful.

“Lets go back, but before lets get us a lot of coffee.”

“I don’t want you to be sick in the morning.”

“I won’t, not after I take my vitamin G.”

“Okay, that’s a bad joke, terrible...”

“Yeah, let’s never talk about this.”

“Like if I could forget.”

“I swear...”

“What? Sometimes you aren’t funny Frank, face it. Come on, let’s get you that vitamin...”

I just laugh and I walk past him, he lights another couple of cigarettes and gives me one.

We end up in some Falafel place because Frank feels like eating falafel. It’s good; really good, he tells me that a friend recommended the place a long time ago. We drink around three or four cups of coffee each. At some point while we eat, he asks the waiter for a piece of paper and a pen. Then he starts writing something.

“What is it?”

“I’m making a list of the things I want to do to you tonight?”

“Are you?”

“Ha, no, but I’ll do that next... I’m just writing something that came to my mind.”

“Hopefully no more angry songs about me.”

“My songs aren’t angry.”

“Yeah, they are. Are you going to show me?”

“No.” then he turns the paper upside down. “So, first a blowjob and then you can fuck me...”

“Jesus, Frank... like, there are kids here!”

“I’m just thinking that there should be something that we haven’t done yet.”

“There isn’t.”

“What about... mmm no, we did that, remember? Barcelona?”

“Oh yeah...” I blush.

“We never had sex in the ocean.”

“Because, _who_ would want to do that?”

“I don’t know, it could be fun.”

“Well, there’s no ocean here.”

“We never had sex on an airplane.”

“Because the time I asked you to, you got scared.”

“Yeah, that place was too small. Ok, let’s not talk about places where we didn’t do it.”

“Positions, then?”

“We are too old for that and too yoga-less.”

“Point.”

We stay quiet, both of us thinking and blushing at some memories. I don’t understand what he’s trying to do, but it’s making me feel relaxed.

“Remember that time in your car? The jeep, I mean, not the beetle.”

“Yes.” I laugh. “When your arm got stuck in the wheel.”

“Remember when your grandma caught us?”

“Ah, no, stop it, I had buried that memory.”

“She never called me little Frankie anymore after that.”

“Seriously, stop. Let’s just go back to the room and be creative there.”

“Like when you covered me in oil paint?”

“Not that kind of creative.”

“I think we just did everything already.”

“Maybe that’s why we are so bored of each other.”

“We aren’t. I could never be.”

“Me neither.”

He pays the check and we go back to the hotel in a taxi. He doesn’t tell me the time of his flight when I ask him. It makes me think that he won’t say goodbye.

We get there and we do almost everything in our capability. But after a while none of us has the kind of energy required to have sex, but we stay awake, because of the caffeine. He tells me stories and we share some memories, we avoid talking about the present and the future. At some point I fall asleep, I feel really happy and he’s holding my hand and brushing my hair, making knots with his fingers. Later on I feel him kiss me on the mouth, slow and drifting, I answer but I’m sleepy, then he makes sure of applying enough pressure to wake me up and when I finally do we kiss intensely, with open mouths and tangling tongues, he bites my lip and when he pushes himself away I can see that he has clothes on again, it’s dark outside thou. He’s leaving and I’m in shock.

“Please don’t say it.”

He doesn’t want me to say goodbye. He hates goodbyes.

“Okay. When...?”

“Gee. No plans.”

“Okay. Fuck.”

I start to feel anxious and desperate, my heart rate gets faster and faster and I’m sweating, he’s about to leave and I’m going to feel empty again. I’m dizzy and disoriented, I don’t know what to say or do. He’s moving around in the room and I see that he’s wearing some of my clothes, the same clothes he wore before; he even had time to shower.

“I would have showered with you.”

“You? Showering two days in a row?”

“Stop.” I start to stand up, then I stop in front of him and touch his face with the tip of my fingers. “You look amazing. I like that sweater on you.”

“Thanks, maybe when you bought it you thought about me.”

“Maybe I did.” I roll my eyes. “Just know that I always feel the same about you, it can never ever change.” I lean to find my clothes around the floor, I’m planning to walk him to his taxi, or whatever he’s taking.

“Some feelings are so deep that if you force them to leave you, you may die in the process.” He says in a whisper.

I stop and I look at him again, we just stay mute for some time, just staring at each other with a smile that is almost reassuring, whatever it is that we feel for each other will stay like that forever. I tried to let it go and it never worked. It’s like a curse, it’s forever. I can’t imagine my life without this feeling, I would be another and I tried for too long to be another and I just can’t, deep inside I’m the same, I’m that guy that is in love with Frank.

“Exactly. I know you don’t want to talk, but Frank, I’m gonna have a fucking crisis if I don’t know where we are standing now, I’m tired of not knowing, it kills me. Like, I’m already feeling weird and nauseous, and you know, that hole that forms in my chest...”

“Where do you wanna stand?” he interrupts me, I’m finally dressing up.

“Can we at least plan to see each other again? For real, not like pretending that we’ll plan something and never actually do.”

“Yes. Okay, that can work.”

“I can always have more interviews...” he smiles “Which reminds me, I have to deal with James, I don’t want you guys to worry about me.”

“Well, he just did it because I asked him to.”

“So, he’s not genuinely worried?”

“No, I mean, yes he is, he knows how much you are trying but he freaked out with the whole -talking alone about being happy- thing. I know that you needed space from me, to take distance...”

“That’s not...”

“I know, Gee. I needed it too. I just can’t measure distance when it comes to you.  I don’t know how much is too much, you know? I can think that one day is enough even knowing that I need a year, that’s why my plan was to visit you around our late years, when we were about to die, I thought that would work.”

“It wouldn’t.”

“No. I think of you every day, every night. I can’t take distance from you, I can try but my mind always takes me back there, all the time.”

“Time doesn’t work either.”

“You would expect that two years are enough time, but no, nothing has changed.”

“Then, what are we going to do?”

“I have no clue.”

“Do you remember that time when you were reading that strange book in Latin that we found in a church?”

“Yes...” he laughs.

“I have considered that you like, read a curse and we are condemned because of it.”

“Well, that makes sense, because this isn’t normal. What I feel for you, it’s... it makes no sense, the most unexplainable shit ever, to blow the mind of any psychiatrist.”  

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Because I know you struggle, you shouldn’t.”

“I don’t, not anymore. I know that I have to live with this forever and that I have to stop bitchin’ about it. I tried everything, it didn’t work so fuck it, fuck this and fuck you... if you don’t want me then whatever, fuck that, I’m still going to like you and think that you are the second coolest motherfucker, and I’m going to love you in this sick way that nobody understands.”

“I do, I do understand.”

“Then stop fighting against it.”

“Yeah, I try, I want to.”

“Okay then.”

“Will you reply my emails?”

“Yes.”

“And take my calls?”

“Yes... you should visit too, or like surprise me too, but I’ll try not to put my hopes on that.”

“I can’t promise anything, because if I do I’ll hurt you.”

“Just stop, why are you declaring that you are going to disappoint me already? See, this is why I didn’t want to talk, you still have that shit that you believe in and you think that you are right in thinking that way, just fuck you. You aren’t right, it doesn't work like that, you don’t tell yourself _I’m happy,_ no matter how many times you say it, it won’t happen, it won’t feel right, saying things changes nothing.”

“Okay, I know.”

“And stop thinking that staying away from me is better for me... that’s... bullshit... it hurts me a hundred times more when you stay away.”

“Yeah, it hurts me too.”

“So, if you are going to come back it has to be for good, but if you are coming back and then backing off then don’t come at all, because that really sucks.”

“Right back at ya.”

“I know. I won’t. I won’t back off, I’m throwing my keys to the lake again.”

“So, I have to kiss you now?”

“Yes.”

I do and it feels right, we smile and it’s just stupid but it makes sense, at least for us it does. I put on a jacket and he asks me to come to the lobby with him.  He leans on my shoulder on the elevator and I just look at his eyes trough the mirror.

“So, what now?”

I ask right after we pass the door, he has a backpack that I didn’t see until now, he puts it in the front seat of the taxi. It’s really cold out and it’s pretty much lonely around.

“You call me, I answer. I call you, you answer, that simple.”

“Fine.”

“Slowly, not thinking, we’ll see what happens, just stop running away... would you?”

“Yeah, I will, I can.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t hate you. I know you told James that you thought that I hated you, sometimes I do, but if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to love you the way I do, I need to hate you sometimes so I can love you the others.”

“Fuck. You... how can you... say those things.” He leaves me wordless; I don’t even know that to say. “I need that teleporter.”

“You do, let’s start there, when we talk, let’s talk about ideas for your teleporter.”

“Sounds like the step one.”

“I really hope this helped, stop freaking out Dewees.”

“It did, yeah, I won’t anymore. I mean, I’ll freak out on you now, again.”

He just smiles.

“Yeah, whatever, I can’t just take the good stuff, the bad comes with it too.”

“Just go.”

“Yes, remember...”

“Yeah, I won’t say it.”

I don’t say goodbye, he jumps in the taxi and I wait until I see it turn around the corner. Yes I feel empty and dizzy, lost and disoriented, but there’s something else, I feel excited, looking forward to something that I don’t know yet but that it feels good, and I feel happy, not that I wasn’t before, but now I’m sure that I am.

-G.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am no one, I know nothing, everything is just random.


End file.
